


Love Is in the Apple Jacks

by ClaireFisher



Series: Words In Between [19]
Category: Psych (TV 2006)
Genre: Apple Jacks, Episode: s04e13 Death is In the Air, F/M, Hidden Feelings, Mom Talks, Romance, Shules
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:48:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29279460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClaireFisher/pseuds/ClaireFisher
Summary: This wasn’t about Juliet being sick, or alone, or afraid. This was about matters of the heart. It was about Shawn. A small smile crossed Maryanne's lips. This was about love.Ep 04x13: Death Is in The Air
Relationships: Juliet O'Hara & Maryanne O'Hara, Juliet O'Hara/Shawn Spencer
Series: Words In Between [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1817497
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	Love Is in the Apple Jacks

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! Happy Sunday!! 
> 
> So, here it comes a brand new extension! 
> 
> Although this wasn't a request, I felt like I needed to write more about this ep! There's so much in it that was left unexplored! Also, I took the opportunity to bring Maryanne back!! Yes! Since this season doesn't have any Christmas eps, I decided to mash her here! I love writing her, and I hope you like this new side of her I explored in this fic! 
> 
> About Juliet, I tried to bring all the emotional turmoil she was put under during the ep to a culminating position, forcing her to finally face some of the feelings she's scared of. I hope it worked out okay! 
> 
> All this said I hope you all enjoy this little piece, and please, leave a comment, suggestion, or anything else you feel like! I love to read your opinions and the feedback is always appreciated <3

_ “Juliet Elizabeth O’Hara. Is it that hard to pick your stupid phone? Huh? I’ve been calling! Now, I need a very good excuse for you to-” _

“M-mom.”

The broken tone in her baby girl’s voice was enough to silence Maryanne at once. 

A deep fear crept from down her heart, constricting the older woman’s throat, at the understatement that there was something very wrong with her Juliet. And if the deep fear rooting in her heart from the moment she turned on the news of Santa Barbara in her computer, earlier that day, shocked to know that a highly infectious virus was threatening the Californian city her baby lived in, then the missed calls and lack of any news coming from Juliet, preceded by a notification from the hospital informing that Juliet had been admitted earlier, weren’t enough to shake Maryanne’s very core, the voice speaking from the other end of that call was sufficient to curdle her blood. 

Juliet suppressed a sniff, trying to control the throbbing sobs threatening to come out if she opened her mouth again. Unfortunately, the tears she has been fighting since she was released from the hospital, late that afternoon, were now streaming freely, streaking her porcelain cheeks, pooling at the base of her neck, impossible to stop. The dam broke after she had enough of holding its cracked walls.

She had faced the possibility of contracting a deadly disease, had felt the brush of death cause goosebumps on her skin, and still, none of those terrifying facts were the ones causing her outburst. 

No.

This one had a name and impeccable hair. 

Was the one speaking through metaphors of cereals boxes that Juliet had a hard time to actually comprehend, especially with him so close, eyes so sparkling, his scent shutting down her senses until all she could understand was that Shawn was right there, right in front of her, spilling his heart out through his gibberish, on the verge of saying it, just an inch from soothing all the anxiety in her heart, just about to fulfill all the expectation created since she discovered that Abigail was long gone and far away. 

She could bet he was about to say it, just there, at the tip of his tongue. 

But then, he backed away.

And the rational part of her brain could understand and accept that Shawn did so because he wasn’t ready yet. Following along his metaphor, now she knew she was his prize, but, for some unspoken reason, he wasn’t ready to get it. He hadn't finished the cereal box yet, and couldn't flip it and unseal the bottom because the top was already open. 

Her heart was already open. 

Apparently, his was too.

But there was some darn plastic bag in the way. 

Some matter in between that kept them extremely close and still so frustratingly far. 

Life was unsure, and often Juliet wondered why they were waiting so long for when all could be ripped out from their hands in a blink.

The job they had, the risks they took, their life always on the line. 

What were they waiting for? 

Shawn’s words echoed in her mind, mocking her beaten up heart. 

Her logical brain would come in right now and remind her that it was better this way. 

She cared too much about Shawn, was too heart dipped in him to risk anything. 

They have waited before, they could wait a little longer. 

But then, her stupid, completely taken, miserably aching heart, that had once been destroyed by the very man who owned it, would slap her with the deep truth that she didn’t care about non-sense “what ifs”, didn’t care if it would be risky or uncertain. 

She just wanted Shawn.

Right here, right now.

Telling her everything would be okay.

That he loved her. Even if she knew he might never say it out loud, knowing his struggles with these types of deep feelings. 

And she would say it back.

Because she did.

She loved him.

Perhaps always have. 

Liking it or not, admitting it only to herself or to him, it was the purest truth.

Juliet loved Shawn Spencer with every fiber of her slim body, and tasting the possibility of him saying the very same thing to her, that he loves her too, that he wants her just as much as she wants him, just to have it ripped away from her because he couldn't say it, and then because they were interrupted, was tearing her apart. Slowly and painful. 

And it wasn’t until now, at the safety of her apartment, after she was driven back by Carlton in complete silence, after seeing how many missed calls she had from her mother and the fear she might have built up in the woman, that Juliet broke down. 

Too tired to fight back, too pained to mask anything. 

_ “Julie bean. What’s the matter, baby? What happened?”  _

She could listen to the concealed fear, the shakiness on her mom’s voice, causing her to just spill more tears, choked words coming out before she could filter them.

“M-mom. I- I don’t know. I don’t know.”

Succumbing to the overwhelming feelings, Juliet let her legs fall, her body resting on the floor as she gripped her cell phone tightly, not sure how she could possibly begin to explain to her mom what she was feeling, what was happening.

But Maryanne was a clever woman, knowing how to read her daughter better than anyone, or well, almost anyone. She would accept that after meeting a certain charming psychic. 

Taking a deep breath and cooling down, the older, former, O’Hara started to dig through the debris of her broken baby.

_ “Baby girl? Let’s take a deep breath, okay?” _

The soothing tone of her mom’s voice brought Juliet back to her reality and, like a little kid, she absorbed the small easy instructions, complying with her mom’s orders.

“O-okay.”

_ “Yes. That’s it. Deep breaths. Keep going.” _

And for a few seconds, all Maryanne could hear was Juliet’s breathing, comforted once she realized it started to even.

_ “Very good. Now, let’s see. I‘ve read the news about the Thornburg virus and saw that some people got infected. Then the Santa Barbara General notified me to let me know you’re admitted. That’s why I’ve been calling. Were you infected? Are you still in the hospital?” _

The slow pace of the words made it easier for Juliet to absorb them, and as her heart started to beat more calmly, she felt her voice strong enough for her to answer back.

“I- I thought I was infected. I cut myself while retrieving one of the vials containing the virus. But it turned out I didn’t get it and, after a quick check-up, the hospital released me.”

_ “Okay. That’s good. I’m so happy to know that you’re healthy and safe. Now, was there anyone with you? Or were you alone?” _

Maryanne knew how loneliness, especially when Juliet was sick, affected her. She was always a strong girl, never afraid of anything, but when Juliet gets sick, all her fears come to the surface and, even if she doesn't say it, she’s terrified of being alone. She may be in terminal pain, if there’s someone by her side, she stays calm and collected. 

“At t-the beginning I was. It's the protocol that people infected by Thornburg have to be isolated. But then Gus came to stay with me. Carlton showed up later and then…then Shawn came too.”

At the mention of Shawn’s name, a bright light illuminated the clouded mind of Maryanne and all her doubts were clarified. 

This wasn’t about her being sick, or alone, or afraid.

This was about matters of the heart.

It was about Shawn.

A small smile crossed her lips, her mind fast recoiling the brief encounters she had with the charming man and the amount of time Juliet spoke about him.

She knew, from the beginning, that they loved each other, knew the deep roots their feelings for one another had. But, for some reason, they held themselves back.

It seemed that this time, it was more than Juliet could bear. 

_ “Oh baby girl, I’m also glad to know that you weren't alone. I’m sorry I couldn't be there for you.” _

Sniffing slightly, while she dried her nose on her sleeve, Juliet chuckled, knowing her mom would take the fact that she couldn’t be there as a personal fault.

“It’s okay mom. Don’t blame yourself.”

Silencer filled the line for a few seconds before Maryanne spoke again.

_ “Juliet?” _   


“Yes?”

_ “This isn’t about the virus, is it?” _   


“I…”

She gaped, feeling a new batch of fresh tears starting to pool in her eyes.

_ “This is about Shawn.” _

Juliet nodded, not daring to say anything, for a second forgetting that her mom couldn't’ see her. But, again, Maryanne knew everything. She might be a psychic too, Juliet guessed.

_ “Baby. Did he say something? Did you do something?” _

Sucking a breath, she knew there was no turning back, not this time.

“Mom… I… He… He just stood there. He entered my room and started babbling about cereal boxes and prizes and …”

_ “And?” _

“And I think he was going to tell me that he loves me!”

There, she said, ripped out the band-aid. 

A part of her felt relieved while the other was completely terrified.

Memories of when he got shot clouding her mind. 

Back then she thought he meant it to her, ready to say it back, and then he just broke her heart again. 

She wouldn't allow it to happen a third time.

Maryanne went silent for a few moments, as if absorbing every word before she spoke again.

_ “Baby, do you love him?” _

Shell shocked, Juliet’s eyes widened as she struggled with her own confused, but very clear, feelings. 

She knew the truth.

But knowing and confessing it to someone were two very different things.

“I… I don’t know.”

Again, Shawn’s voice echoed in her mind.

_ “Juliet. Be honest with yourself. Do you love him?” _

That was it. 

There was no turning back.

Because the truth was burning her inside like fire, licking every cranny of her being.

“Yes. I love him, mom.”

Finally, Maryanne thought. Finally, she admitted. Her daughter might not be ready to blurt it out to Shawn, but at least she had admitted it to herself.

_ “So why are you holding it back, honey?” _

“Mom…” 

_ “Why, dear? _ ”

“Because… Because he hurt me. He broke my heart. And I don’t want to say it and have it broken all over again.”

Maryanne listened as Juliet composed herself, while she remembered the night a few months back when her baby had called her, choked voice, much like now, to tell about the vicious psycho-criminal they had fought and how brave and heroic Shawn had been. That night she learned that Shawn had rejected her daughter, not exactly through clear words, she must clarify. 

Part of her was furious with the man, but the other knew that Juliet had rejected him first and both, despite being clever and extremely intelligent, were the dumbest pair of kids she knew. 

_ “Julie. Listen. If you don’t risk it. If you don’t open yourself, you'll never know. Sometimes people need a little push. Maybe that’s what Shawn needs.” _

Pausing, she waited, praying that her words would penetrate the stubborn skull of her daughter, but still aware that, sometimes, painful experiences could harden a person's heart.

“I… I don’t know mom. I’m…”

_ “I know it’s hard. I know it’s scary. But Juliet, if you think Shawn is worth it, if you think he’s the one, baby you fight for it. You open up. And if he doesn't see the amazing, breathtaking woman you’re, then he’s the stupidest person I’ve ever known, and I’ll make sure your brothers get to have a little chat with him.” _

Loosing up her grip on her phone, Juliet freed her lips from her furious chewing to smile softly, soothed by her mom’s words.

“You’re right mom. I… Thank you.”

Satisfied, Maryanne smiled, all the while hoping that, somehow, those two found their way to each other.

_ “No problem. I’m always here. I love you, baby girl.” _

“I love you too mom. I’m sorry for keeping you in the dark and for missing the calls.”

_ “Is okay. I get it. Now go get your man!” _

“MOM!”

Embarrassed, she felt her cheeks get hot and, unwilling, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. 

_ “What? It’s true.” _

“Well, I’m ending this conversation! Goodbye, mom.”

Laughing softly, Maryanne could picture the deep crimson of Juliet’s cheeks, and, deciding to cut the girl some slack, she allowed the subject to go.

_ “Okay. Bye honey. Call me anytime. Love you.” _

“I will. Thanks. Love you too. Bye.”

Disconnecting the call, Juliet put herself on her feet, drying the reminiscent of her crying on her sleeve and fixing her hair. 

Her mom was right.

She had to fight for it! Fight for Shawn.

A wave of determination engulfed her and Juliet marched to her door, strengthening her sweater, ready to face the night and the path towards Shawn’s apartment.

But, as her hand hit the doorknob, all the fear of rejection, the past wounds, the fear of being wrong about Shawn’s feelings overcame her, making her pause right there, second-guessing all her previous decisions. 

Little did she know that, on the other side, on the same doorknob, rested a much larger hand, belonging to the one and only Shawn Spencer who, after spending his entire afternoon relieving his speech, the dread of almost losing Juliet, the regret of not having the guts to say what he really felt, something he only confessed to his grandfather buried underground, overwhelmed by that love so impetuous and breathtaking, decided to knock on her door and finally spill those secrets of his heart.

To tell her plain and simple, well, maybe not that simple, how much he loved her.

But, as he found himself there, hand inches away from the door, ready to knock, he froze. 

Petrified, he stared at it for long moments.

What should he do?

What would he say?

What if she didn’t feel the same way?

He would make a complete fool of himself and their “platonic” friendship would go down the drain. 

If he said it, he would never be able to take it back. And if she rejected him, Shawn didn’t know what he would do.

Leaving Santa Barabra would be the first step. 

She didn’t love him. It wasn’t possible.

But her eyes, those comets staring at him through the hospital's glass window, begged to tell him differently. 

So, he would go for it. 

Yeah.

That’s it.

He would knock. 

But he didn’t.

Instead, Shawn sat on her porch for four hours.

Four.

Thinking through every single moment they shared.

All the laughter, the friendship, the comfort, and the need for commitment only Juliet was able to make him want to have. 

And, while he stood outside in the dark windy night, Juliet stood inside, unaware of his presence, back pressed against her door, eyes closed as she tried and failed at not thinking about Shawn, about what she should do about a million other things. 

Tomorrow.

Yes.

Tomorrow she would tell him.

Tonight, she would stay put and quiet.

So she got up and moved around. She grabbed a bowl from her kitchen counter, reaching the other end of the room towards her cabinet, from which she fished an opened box of Apple Jacks. Inclining the box, she watched as the sugary kernels fell inside the white dish until a sparkling thing caught her eyes making her stop.

There, resting atop of the cereal, was a mood ring.

Fresh tears started to prick her eyes but, this time, Juliet suppressed them, tired of crying, of being so vulnerable. 

Setting the card box beside the bowl, she delicately fished the ring, cleaning the fine sugar coating it before she slipped the plastic jewelry in her finger. 

Immediately it started changing colors and once it stopped, Juliet laughed aloud.

Green.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> In my little knowledge and research on mood rings, green means love. If you know more about this, and I'm completely wrong, please let me know, and I'll change it! <3
> 
> PS: What a game tonight! Still recovering! Although the Chiefs aren't my team, I was rooting for them! Well, at least I have this fic and other amazing Psych works on this site to cure my gloomy heart! <3


End file.
